


The Steeple I Call Home

by thecoldlightofday



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-10
Updated: 2013-02-10
Packaged: 2017-11-28 21:32:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/679096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecoldlightofday/pseuds/thecoldlightofday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The last time Rick and Shane have sex is right before Rick and Lori’s wedding while they’re getting ready at the church. This was originally a fill for the kinkmeme, <a href="http://twd-kinkmeme.livejournal.com/3898.html?thread=4445242&#t4445242">here</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Steeple I Call Home

Shane’s never had much of a taste for weddings. He enjoys them, sure. There’s booze and an excuse to wear a tux and pretty bridesmaids drugged stupid on love. Shane likes those parts, the girls and the fun; he just prefers to skip the ceremony and head straight to the reception.   
  
Rick’s is the first wedding he’ll see through from start to finish since his great-aunt Clara got remarried when he was twelve.  
  
This though, is a far step from spending an entire night trying to keep ketchup and fruit punch off his good suit. This is him and Rick, standing side by side together, staring at their reflections in the section of the church reserved for the groom. Rick’s tux slimming him down all over, Shane’s emphasizing his shoulders and tapering his waist when he moves. They look like real grown men here, not two barely twenty-something boys. Shane’s not sure he likes this glimpse of who they’re going to be.  
  
“Your tie’s crooked,” Shane finally says. Not so much crooked as mangled, looped through too high at the top.  
  
“You did it for me,” Rick mutters, almost laughing, and maybe Shane could have laughed too if Rick’s fingers weren’t trembling as he undid the knot. Rick’s hands shaking seems like a distortion in the mirror because Rick’s hands have been strong and sure since the day they met, two even younger boys than now playing marbles in the dirt.  
  
Shane adjusts Rick’s tie a little lower. He smoothes wrinkles from Rick’s lapels and lets his fingers linger there before he pins on Rick’s boutonniere. The flower is white, petals fanning outwards. Shane hasn’t seen Lori’s bouquet yet, but he knows it matches exactly, the same as his and Rick’s tux. He and Rick are complementing colors; Rick’s tie pale silver while Shane’s is cream. It had been Lori’s idea for the shades of their shirts and ties to be reversed.  
  
Altogether it’s not bad for a wedding planned in under three weeks.  
  
“Well?” Rick asks, opening his arms with a helpless smile, turning to the mirror again to look himself up and down.  
  
“Not too shabby brother. Ain’t like it matters though, no one’s gonna be looking at you.” Shane winks at himself, at Rick, and they share a shiver of laughter and Shane has to put his hands in his pockets because his fingers have caught Rick’s twitch. He’s not even sure why he’s nervous. After the day is over, Shane’s the one who is still going to be the same.  
  
The boutonniere stands out on Rick’s lapel like a bird bright enough to take to the sky.  
  
Rick looks at him and Shane knows Rick is going to kiss him. He recognizes the expression, Rick’s eyes gone clear as glass; Shane’s face caught dead center. Rick’s looked at him that way before, only a handful of occasions: their high school graduation, the night they finished college, random moments out of the blue. Shane’s come to expect them from Rick when things get too hushed between them, when Shane can see that affection in Rick’s blue eyes shining through.  
  
Still, Shane lets Rick kiss him even though he shouldn’t. He lets Rick bring a hand up to cup the side of Shane’s face too. There’s gentleness in the movement, something harder underneath like grief. Shane tilts his head until their mouths fit perfectly together.  
  
Things go pretty quickly after that. Shane steps out of his suit pants and hangs them over the back of a nearby chair. Rick just pulls himself through his zipper but Shane makes him pull his pants past his knees. It would be worst, somehow, if they ruined their tuxes. He finds it funny he can even think of something worse in a moment like this, the sound of Rick spitting into his hand while Shane bends himself over what he figures is probably the preacher’s desk.

Rick takes a long time to finger him, touching around inside him more than anything, rubbing his fingers in short strokes. He presses hard and Shane shudders, eyes opening with a groan. He can see Rick behind him in the mirror, Rick draped across him, forehead between Shane’s clothed shoulder blades.  
  
“Hey,” Shane says, thin because he’ll come if Rick keeps at it, but sharp because they don’t have much longer to go.  
  
“Right.” Rick nods against him, both hands on his hips as he penetrates him slow. There’s no condom this time, their first time ever, and Shane feels an intimacy so strong he has to close his eyes again until it goes away. It fades, gradually, when Rick starts to move his hips and sway. Shane’s afraid it’s going to go like that, Rick barely thrusting at all. He doesn’t think there’s any chance in heaven or hell they’re going to finish, not before the preacher comes to tell them to take their place.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Rick says, breath burning where it fans across Shane’s neck. Rick’s leaves dampness along Shane’s collar with each open-mouthed kiss. Shane’s too busy touching himself to care what Rick’s saying. He’s pushing back on the right movements, arching forward to fuck his fist. He realizes that he’s going to miss this, whatever it is this is. Lust or love or an ephemeral pleasure, the only three things they’ve ever known.  
  
The old church pings with silence, though in the steeple the bell starts to toll. The church echoes in righteous hallelujah. It’s a sound that vibrates inside Shane’s chest.  
  
Sunlight through the stained glass windows stretches flecks of color across the floor. Shane’s watching a trapezoid of magenta dance across his dress shoes when he comes, catching everything in a tissue he found crumpled on the floor. Rick fucks him through his orgasm, hard, perfect strokes. His voice is wrecked and slurry from moaning.  
  
“I know,” Shane answers, shifting, taking more of Rick’s weight against his back. Rick’s almost finished, his breathing ragged, slamming his cock inside Shane deep. He goes with Rick’s momentum, leaning forward onto his toes, returning when Rick pulls him. Rick holds onto him tight.  
  
The church bells grow louder, faster, and the music overshadows the noise of Shane’s heart beating in his ears. He can’t even hear his name when Rick grunts it. He only knows Rick’s come because of the feeling, more intense than he ever imagined, hot even on the inside.  
  
They get dressed in a hurry. Shane shakes his pants out once to get out a long, obvious crease. Rick helps him tuck his shirt in at the back. Soon enough they’re back to examining themselves in the mirror, and once again they look the same. There’s not a trace of anything. No red mouths from the kiss, no burns from stubble. They’re both pristine.  
  
“Congratulations brother,” Shane whispers as the door opens behind them, preacher and Rick’s dad both smiling, Rick’s mom waving a camcorder in Rick’s face.  
  
Rick smiles as his parents usher him forward and Shane follows, thumb dipping into his breast pocket, relieved to find their fucking didn’t shake loose Rick and Lori’s rings.


End file.
